Page 12 of The Has-Been

I knew coming back would be hard. Nothing, though, could have prepared me for this—for having to face all my worst memories everywhere I go. It’s like I’m walking around, waiting for my feet to be taken out from under me, slamming me hard against the ground as my breath is stolen from me.

My chest tightens, a phantom weight spreading over me like a disease. My breathing turns shallow and frantic, each breath chasing the next, making it nearly impossible to slow down. I move aimlessly, ignoring the stares of the people I bump into.

My heart slams against my ribs—so similar to the brutal fucking hit I just witnessed on the replay, knocking the air out of you as you’re thrown against the glass in a game. The room feels hazy, like I’m watching it turn through the bottom of a whiskey glass, though I’ve had nothing to drink.

My thoughts spiral.

I’ve got to get out of here.

People are staring.

Pointing fingers.

Heat floods me despite the cold air seeping through the bar door, which lets in a steady stream of customers and the frigid night air.

I pull out my phone, my fingers near useless as they shake, buzzing with pins and needles. But I force them across the screen, sending a quick message to our group chat:

The Puck Boys (and Liam).

Clever fucking name. I think, cursing Brennan and his imagination as I type out:

Liam:

Calling it a night. Taking an Uber back.

I tuck my phone away after I find a driver and head for the exit, trying to prepare myself for the bone-chilling cold that awaits me.

But just as I near my escape, I collide with another person.

My nose twitches, a scent dancing everywhere around me. It’s soft. Familiar. My eyes flutter closed, and for a second, it feels like she never left—like she’s curled up in my arms, hair plastered all around me as she drifts off to sleep, the coconut and lavender notes of her shampoo tormenting me. Like maybe, I’ll wake up from this nightmare, and she’ll still be there.

I open my eyes and stumble back when I see it really is her standing before me.

Her skin is just as I remember it, soft and littered with freckles, standing out from the pale-faced crowds of the bar. Her hair cascades around her, curls loose. That’s no surprise. It’s never held a style, no matter how long she spends on it. The short strands of her bangs fall over her eyes—just enough to hide them from me, making my heart sink.

My eyes find her smile. Once it might have been me behind that grin. Now, I’m the reason it disappears, like the sun burning away the morning fog.

And damn me if my heart doesn’t stop in my chest.

“Liam—” she says, calling after me.

But I’m already out the door, leaving her behind. Or at least trying to. Because there is no cure for erasing Aubrey Vaughn from your memory.

Trust me, I’ve tried.

CHAPTER 3

THE WORST HAPPENS

AUBREY

“No, mom,” I yell to my phone, which lies across my room on speaker as Rory and I shuffle through my closet. “I promise I won’t forget!”

“I know, I just wanted to remind you to stop and get your measurements.” Her voice booms across my room.

“What about this one?” Rory whispers from next to me, pulling a cropped sweater from a hanger. When I shrug, she rolls her eyes and hangs it back up.

“I won’t forget!” I yell to my phone, stopping Rory as she instead selects a graphic band tee.